


Silences of love

by SungBambu



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SungBambu/pseuds/SungBambu
Summary: There were uncomfortable silences, those in which one feels almost compelled to fill with some meaningless conversation just to stop listening to them. Alec knew the silence that was presented after the laughter, the one who left the smile gently curving the lips for hours.Based on the books and character of Cassandra Clare.It contains spoilers of " Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy", "A long conversation ", "Lady Midnight" and "Lord of Shadows "





	Silences of love

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story can and will contain information given in Lady Midnight and A long conversation.

Silences of love

It had never been an exaggeration to call New York "The city that never sleeps". The day had come to end but the hustle and the activities in the streets seemed no to be diminishing -like it was happening in other places of the world- in spite of the fact that they were a few minutes of the midnight. His cell phone has disburdened by the time he was raising the stairs of the underground in the middle of what it was a whirlwind of papers -fleeing of the stink to which he was sure he would never get used- preventing him from c to call and to warn of his prompt arrival.

Someday he might cross easily the way blindly such as if he was a bloodhound following a track it after having crossed it for years almost daily. He had taken it under different climates with the most diverse feelings guiding his steps. In occasions, he has crossed it running with the racing heart. Others, with light steps, as if nothing any more could matter it. He has experienced the worrying sensation of a tickle in her hands knowing that he would open the door after the so-called first one and he has felt nausea and edginess on having been afraid not to be welcoming in absolute. It was not importing how, but it was always the same destiny: The High Warlock of Brooklyn's loft, located in one of the popular galleries among artists in the decade of the 50.

The way from the station to the apartment was not too long, but a wound - provoked on having had underestimated a ravener demon- was recovering slowly on his left leg (it thanks to the iratze drawn by his sister after ending the mission in an area near to the Jade Wolf) and a blow being colored of the not-attractive green in his abdomen was been turning his routine in a real challenge. He was not that he wanted to complain about his life as Shadowhunter. Certainly, to train daily, to attack demon's hordes in the center of Manhattan, to investigate on disappearances of mundane in places that definitively were going out of the limits of New York or to be hours and hours in meetings with Lily and Maia in order that the downworlders were a bit calmed at least after the establishment of the Cold Peace, was not works that were making him tedious.

The archer was born with angel's blood running through for his veins so more than his labour it was a part of himself, a part of himself that he could not give up in his next three lives. He would admit, nevertheless, that days like this he was wishing the end of the day before putting the first foot out of the bed in the morning.

On his shoulders, there was more weight of the one that -he thought- he could support. Alexander Ligtwood was before only the name of the Jace Herondale's -Wayland, Morgensten or Lightwood, the surname changing depending on the epoch to which he was referring, but always accompanied of the phrase:"The best nephilim of his generation"- brother and parabatai, but now also was the name of the son of The Inquirer, Robert Lightwood; his parabatai , the synonymous one of the Director of the Institute of New York. Her name was the noun of the famous hero of the Dark War, known for his heroism and bravery. Alexander Lightwood, the dark-hair-boy who had kissed a warlock in front everyone just before beginning a battle without importing anything more; because of it, secret hero of many young hunters. Alec, the boyfriend of The Magnificent Warlock of Brooklyn, father of a little blue warlock and a latin-blood nephilim, whose appearances in his life had not been exempt from polemic.

In a few years, he had happened of being just a shade to an important personage in the nephilim's history admired by the new generations of shadow hunters, something that he still could not assimilate. His name was being put in mouths not known with a familiarity that was not corresponding to them. It seemed that his life was in the knowledge of the whole entire world before they were known in person and whenever he was meeting someone they were looking at him with anxieties as if they were hoping that he was making something extraordinary.

His life now was looking like that vision in Edom: his father proud of him and his attainments -in spite of the fact that they have a strained relationship yet- and the acceptance of his inner circle, those that he had been afraid to lose on having told his truth. During all his adolescence he was looking for the recognition of his partners but now that had obtained it, this one was bringing with it a burden that was not waiting.

In one century his bones are not going to be any more than alone part of the walls of the City of Bones as well as all Shadowhunters that him preceded, but for now, he's turned in a legend. And the thought is frightening: his name will be in the books of the Academy's students like a fairy tale, and he? dead.

Sometimes he closed his eyes -for what were long minutes- with the hope the mirror will show you in its reflection that sixteen or seventeen-years-old boy that he had been. Alec wanted to find the boy whose concerns were reduced to keeping Jace's ass out of trouble and Isabelle away from the seelies, but that life had chosen him, and him to it. On all these occasions it was enough to stop and think about everything he had gained in a few years. The happiness that his decisions had brought to his life it was enough for the anxiety was going down and he could continue.

He looked for the lock with trembling fingers thanks to the cold, waiting for the typical click to sound to take out the insurance and to open the door with just give him a small push with his hand. The nephilim thought of the rune that silenced his footsteps as he ascended the stairs, unconsciously avoiding the handrail even though he was no longer the same flimsy wood he had heard creaking while he was too busy against the witch's lips and for not separating from the Warmth of the mouth of the owner of the beautiful green eyes would have been dropped, intoxicated in the new sensations that he was making him discover in his arms.

The horses had become mice again when they stopped in the middle of the main hall. The lights of a couple of vehicles illuminating the loft for a moment allowed their blue eyes to repair in the forgotten toys on the floor, the crayons scattered between one of the tables and the cushions where they had surely knelt down to draw; The leaves with his art were surely now adorning the wall of the guest room -one of the three that the Warlock had before any emergency-which had happened to be of them or perhaps the fridge door which now filled with food that they were going to buy Personally to the supermarket and not the chaquidos of the Warlock.

Alexander was still aware that the noise of the city had followed him there, but, just as if he had turned off the player, the silence only entered the room by making his company. There were uncomfortable silences, those in which one feels almost compelled to fill with some meaningless conversation just to stop listening to them. Alec knew the silence that was presented after the laughter, the one who left the smile gently curving the lips for hours. Then there was that silence, so new and unexplored that only his heart and breaths interrupted. The winter could go back to summer in his heart to see the beautiful scene that developed in front of his eyes.  
It was not difficult to know what had happened there, the children in pyjamas embraced Magnus was sufficient evidence that they had insisted on the elder until it allowed them to wait awake for him on the couch, then inevitably falling asleep.  
The eyelashes shadowed Raphael's cheeks, with his head gently resting against that of the little Blueberry who, in turn, was with his ear near Magnus' heart. He understood the reason why the child liked sleeping close to his heartbeat, even he liked to hear that slow throbbing, slower than any worldly or hunter, as the only constant in an immortal life.  
Magnus was a lovely scene in itself, with straight hair over his eyes and cheeks reddened by the heat that caused all three. His shirt was open on his chest, wrinkled after using the full day and the head hanging gently by the back of the improvised bed.

With agile steps he was dodging as an expert the obstacles that the children had left until reaching the main room, leaving his hunting team, taking advantage of barefoot the combat boots and put clothes to sleep. He tried not to delay to go to the children's room, discovering that Magnus had opened both beds earlier and ordered the stuffed animals with which they slept, just waiting to convince the boys to go to sleep, something that could now materialize.

"Alexander"

When the asian's lips called him by his name, it was heard as if he were pronouncing a spell. He was saying it in a special way, almost as if he was stroking each letter before it escaped from his lips to finish smiling.

With only that act his own lips reflected a smile, closing his hand on the back to lean to reach Magnus with a kiss he had been wishing all the way home. He leaned a little more to deposit a couple of kisses on the fronts of the minors, seeing with affection as they were stirring a little with intentions to wake up, without getting to achieve it.

"They insisted on waiting for you and I didn't have the strength to refuse" He offered those words as an apology with the same hoarse tone of voice he had every morning. Magnus seemed to be the naughty boy who had disobeyed his parents ' orders, proving himself guilty now that he had been discovered by Alexander.

"I will take them to the room. You also should go to bed, Magnus. You'll feel better" His words seemed to be a tip, but he did a pouting anyway when Magnus rolled his eyes and took Rafa in his arms while he caught the minor to go and accommodate him between the pillows and blankets.

He thought he heard Max say "I love you" among his babbling when the little warlock opened his eyes for a moment just before falling back asleep. They left the room. Alexander continued with the grimace of disgust. 

"I've feel better. Don't be mad at me" He murmured as he surrounded his waist with his arms, putting a kiss on his neck knowing that he could not resist too long. There was a sigh and then his shoulders relaxed, screwed on himself to stand before him without leaving his arms.

"Do you have news of the Spiral Labyrinth?"

"The same news that already you know. Day by day many warlocks fall down exhausted after using his magic. Have you news about Rafael?"

Alexander shook his head just as Magnus had before answering "We'll win this battle, my sweet pea"

"I got afraid, Magnus. You, Max and Rafael are my life. I don't know what I would do if something bad happened to you."

"You'll be strong for yourself and for us, Alec. We are a family now" Magnus assured fervently, those amber eyes which without glamour enchanted the firstborn of Lightwood's and the Archer accepted his words even though he was still feeling overwhelmed "We're a family, Alexander. I wouldn't let them. I'm not going to give you up for anybody. I won't let myself be defeated either, I'll find the source of our exhaustion."

"I trust you. You are the best."

"I'm The High Warlock, my love" he winked him with flirtation, taking advantage of her blush to guide his steps to the edge of the bed "and now... I really have so much energy"

"Oh, yes? And what can we do with all this energy?"

"I'm thinking about a couple of things that we can do" he whispered against his lips making the archer forget everything that worried him with a kiss and after that kiss, they both allowed their own silence to be broken with the only thing that should be worthwhile.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second work publish in English and I'm nervous And I'm very very excited too! It's really hard for me writing in English because Spanish is my first language (and I'm still thinking in my own language when I'm writing in other language and I really hate this fact) so I can't talk in English like a native speaking. But I still here, trying to give them my best. I hope you like my short Malec's story called "Silences of love", more happiest than "Blue fear" no?
> 
> This time I wanted to talk about the relationship of Magnus and Alec after the arrival of his second son Rafael when they have problems with The Clave because he is a shadowhunter and Magnus -obviously- is just a warlock (who's fallen in love of an angel's son) a dirty warlock. But Alexander? He loves his family above all things. He is worried about the health of Magnus (remember that warlocks are losing his magic or energy) and he is also worried that his son will be taken away.
> 
> So, what are they going to do? They have each other and the love is more powerful than anything.


End file.
